“Don’t stay out after dark, or the bogeyman will get you!” was the warning a mother would give her children when they went out to play. But, more often than not, the children would laugh at the very idea of a bogey-man existing. Tradition in Ireland, however, does warn us that it is very dangerous for any person to be wandering the country roads and lanes on a late November night because that is the time that the dead celebrate the fact that they are able to wander the earth once again.
Tradition says that the busiest night for these spirit celebrations is the very last night of the month, for that is the evening on which the celebrations cease. It is on that night their right to dance freely on the hill with the fairy folk comes to an abrupt end. After they have danced their last dance the dead have to return to their cold graves, where they will lie in the ice-cold earth without music or drink until November returns the next year. It is only at that time will they be able to spring-up once again from their graves, dressed in what remains of their funeral clothing, and rush into the moonlight shouting loud howls of joy. But some might wonder from where such a tradition originated and, perhaps, the following story might help in answering the question.
“One cold November night there was a local woman who was making her way home at a time when it was said, the dead roamed the land. But she was very tired and carelessly she sat down on a large rock that stood by the side of the road so she could rest for a few moments and regain her breathing in the cold night air. Within a few moments of her sitting down upon the rock, however, a young man came walking by and he began to speak with her. ‘If you wait here a little while,‘ he told her, ‘you will see the most beautiful dancing that you have ever witnessed, over there by the side of the hill.‘”
“The woman stared quietly at the young man for a moment and noticed that his face was very pale and wore a very sad expression. ‘Why are you so sad?‘ she quietly asked him. ‘Your face is as pale as that of a corpse.‘”
“‘ Take a good look at me,‘ the young man told her. ‘Do you know me?‘”
“‘ Yes,‘ she said nervously, ‘Now I know who you are! Sure, you are young Breen and you were drowned last year when you went out fishing. What are you doing here?‘”
“‘ Look over there,’ he told her, ‘On the side of that hill over there you will see the reason for me being here.‘”
“The woman took a look over to where he pointed and saw a large crowd dancing in time to sweet music, and among their number she could see all those who had died as far back as she could remember. There were men, women and children, all dressed in white clothing, and their faces were as pale as the moonlight. ‘Now,‘ the young man said ominously to the woman, ‘you should run for your life, for if the fairies see you here, and bring you into the dance you will never be able to ever leave again.‘”
“While the woman and the young man were talking, however, the fairy folk came up to them both and danced in a circle around the woman, joining their hands together. At that moment she fell to the ground in a faint, and she was to remain in an unconscious state until the next morning when she awoke in her own bed. All those people who saw her at that time said that her face was as pale as that of a corpse, indicating that the woman had been given a ‘fairy-stroke.’ Having realised that she was afflicted the herb doctor was asked to help cure her, but despite their best efforts, she remained the same. As soon as the moon rose that night there was soft, low music heard from all around the house. Then, when the neighbours went to check on the woman, they found her dead.
“Dar-Daol” (pronounced: Darr-Deel)…
“Our dead Friends are right,” an old man told me after hearing that it was my custom to sit up late at night to read. “No, sir, that isn’t right at all,” he sighed and shook his head disapprovingly.
I was curious as to his reasoning and I asked him, “Why is that? ”
“Well,” the old man began, “sure, don’t you know that your dead relatives, if it’s God’s will that they should be wandering about the place, always like to spend their nights in the old home. They come at ten o’clock, and if the house is not quiet they go away again. Then, they return at eleven o’clock, and if there is still any noise from inside, or any one sitting up, they do the same. But, at twelve o’clock they come for the last time, and if they are obliged to leave again, they must spend the night wandering about in the cold! But if they get into the house at any time between ten o’clock and twelve o’clock, they will sit around the hearth until the cock crows to herald the new day.”
The old man’s eyes showed the knowledge of his years and the easy way in which he explained things assured me that he was a man well versed in folklore. His explanation of the dead relatives visiting the home at night gave some light on customs that I had seen when visiting relations with my father in the days of my youth. One such custom that I had observed was that of the woman of the house carefully sweeping around the hearth and arranging the kitchen chairs in a semicircle in front of the “raked” fire before the last person awake finally makes their way to bed.
The old man listened intently as I told him about the custom I watched, many years before, and he told me that such preparations were often made in the homes of country folk. “Sure, what would the relatives think,” he said with a smile, “if the place was not tidied up before their arrival ? It is little respect we had for them, they’d say.”
I loved to walk along the country highways and byways of the county, especially in the summer. One day, I was walking along a road in the south of county and was accompanied by a good friend of my father’s, called Peter. We passed a poorly clothed and wretched-looking woman, who acted most oddly as we approached. Much to my amazement, as we came closer to her, the woman turned her back to us and stood with her head bent towards the ground until we had passed by. “What in the name of God is wrong with her, is she away in the head? ” I asked Peter.
“Aye,” answered my friend, “the poor woman is a little astray in the mind, and that is what she always does when she sees a stranger.”
Peter then began to explain to me that he recalled seeing the same woman, when she was young lady and he was only a boy. At that time, she was growing up into a very attractive and sensible young girl, who was admired by all the young men in the entire neighbourhood. “Then, she saw something,” Peter told me in a mysterious tone of voice, “and the poor woman was never the same again.”
“What, in the name of God, did she see? ” I asked.
“Sure, I wouldn’t know,” he replied, “but, it might have been something similar to what her brother saw before he died.”
“What was that? ”
“Well, her brother was playing cards in a local village one night, and was returning home after twelve o’clock, when his eyes caught sight of a great number of strangely dressed, little men coming towards him. It struck him that every one of these little men were of the same size, and that they were marching to the sound of grand music. In the front of the parade there was one little man, who held a big drum and was heartily beating away at it, accompanied by two or three more little men with smaller drums, and the rest of the company had flutes. The poor woman’s brother was almost frightened to death by what he saw, and he stood rooted to the spot unable to move even an inch. The little man beating the big drum came up to him and asked him why he had dared to come along their way at that late hour of the night. The poor woman’s brother was completely mesmerised by the scene and could not utter a word in reply. Then, the little drummer ordered the rest of the parade to take hold of him and carry him along with them. ‘No!’ said one of the little men, ‘you won’t touch him this time. He is my own brother. Don’t you know me, Hughey?‘ he said as he turned toward the terror-stricken young man. In fact, he was his brother, who had died about a year earlier. ‘Go you home now, Hughey dear,’ the little man told him, in as mournful a voice as ever was heard, ‘‘ So, you see,” concluded Peter, “it is not advisable to be out late at night, particularly after twelve o’clock. And it is generally believed it was something similar that the poor sister had seen, which left her in her current condition.”
Naturally, I made no effort to question the supposition because I knew only too well, from past experiences, that any such efforts would prove to be fruitless. You, when you hear stories such as these, might choose to ridicule them and regard them as being complete nonsense. But, let me warn you that such ridicule and attempts to disprove such stories would only be a waste of your energy and your words. Those who have been brought up believing in the power of the Spirits, the ‘Good People’ and the Sidhe (Shee) are as convinced of their power and existence, as they are convinced of their own existence. In response to your efforts to dissuade them they will simply tell you that they know what they know.
You will recall that the doctor was dressed in red, because of the previous night’s dinner appointment. Moreover, Dermot was a little man, and his gold-laced hat and ponderous shoe-buckles completed the ensemble, which Danny immediately assumed to belong to the spirit that he had been hunting for. Danny was certain that, at long last, he had discovered a Leprechaun. He was so amazed by his discovery that he was riveted to the spot, and his pulse was beat so fast, that he could not move or breathe freely for some seconds. When he had recovered his senses, and he began to make his way stealthily to the place where the doctor was sleeping slept. As he moved closer to the doctor he became increasingly certain that what he was seeing was, indeed, his long sought prize. When he came within reach of his goal, Danny made one great jump, landing on the unfortunate little man, fastening his huge hand around his throat while, at the same time, he let out a cheer of triumph, “By God, my Bucko! I have finally got the hold of you!”
Being suddenly and violently aroused from his drunken stupor, the poor little doctor was shocked and bewildered. As he opened his eyes, he met the ferocious glare of triumphant and delighted Danny Kelly. “What’s happening?” he gurgled because that was all that the iron grip of Danny’s hand upon his throat would allow him to do.
“Gold!” shouted Danny. “Gold! gold! gold!”
“What about gold?” asked a panicking doctor.
“Is it Paddy Gold you’re talking about? Has he taken ill again?” asked the doctor, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming the whole thing. “Jaysus, man, don’t choke me. I will go immediately,” he said as he tried to get up on his feet.
Danny tightened his hold on the doctor and telling him, “By God, you won’t.”
“For Christ’s sake, will you let me go?” the doctor roared.
“Let you go? Aye, that would be the clever thing to do! I don’t think so”
“Will you let me go, you crazy eejit?”
“Gold! gold! you little vagabond!”
“Well I’m going, if you’ll allow me.”
“The Devil a step you’ll be taking,” Danny told him and his grip tightened so as to almost choke him.
“Oh, murder! Murder, For God’s sake!”
“Weesht, you thief! How dare you speak of God, you devil’s imp!”
The poor little man, upset by the suddenness of his waking and the roughness of the treatment he was receiving, was in a state of complete bewilderment. For the first time he now realised that he was lying on grass and under bushes. Rolling his eyes in his search for help, Dermot began to shout, “Where am l? God help me!”
“Weesht! you crooked little trickster – I swear by all that’s holy, if you say God again, I’ll cut your throat.”
“What are you gripping on to me so tightly?”
“Just in case you might try to vanish! See how well I know you, you blackguard.”
“Then, for God’s sake, if you know me so well, please treat me with proper respect.”
“Respect, indeed? That’s a good thing for you to ask. So, to hell with respect! Damn your impudence, you thieving old rogue.”
“Who taught you to call your betters such names? How dare you use a professional gentleman like me so roughly?”
“Oh, do you hear him! – a professional gentleman, is it? Do you not think I know you, you little old cobbler?”
“Cobbler? Christ’s sake man, what do you mean, you buck eejit? Let me go, now!” scolded the doctor as he struggled violently to rise from the ground.
“Not one inch will you go out of here until give me what I want.”
“What is it you want, then?”
“So you’re a thief and you want to rob me, do you?”
“What robbery are you talking about? That won’t work, even though you think yourself to be clever, and you won’t frighten me either. Come on, now, give it to me immediately. You might as well since I’ll never let go of my grip of you until you hand over the gold.”
“‘ I swear to God that I possess no gold or silver. All I have is four shillings in the pockets of my trousers, which you are most welcome to if you let go of my throat.”
“Four-shillings! What makes you think that I’m such a gobshite, that I will be satisfied with a lousy four-shillings. You know, for three straws, I would thrash you within an inch of your life this very minute for your impudence. Come, no more nonsense from you and out with the gold you’re hiding!”
“I have no gold, so don’t choke me. If you murder me, remember there’s law in this land, so you would be better letting me go.”
“Not an inch! Give me the gold, I tell you, you little vagabond!” said Danny as he began shaking him very violently.
“Don’t murder me, for Heaven’s sake!”
“I will murder you if you don’t give me a hatful of gold this minute!”
“A hatful of gold? Who exactly do you take me for?”
“Sure, I know you’re a Leprechaun, you damned deceiver!”
“A Leprechaun?” asked the doctor, in mingled indignation and amazement. “Jaysus, big man. You’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“Do I look stupid? No, of course I’m not! I have you now, and I’ll hold on to you. I’ve been looking for you for such a long time, and I’ve caught you at last. Be sure that I will either have your life or the gold.”
“Dear Jaysus, young man, you are making a mistake! I’m not a Leprechaun! I’m Doctor McFlynn.”
“That’s more lies! You’re trying to trick me, but it will not work. Do you think I don’t know the difference between a doctor and a Leprechaun. Just give me the gold, you old cheat!”
“I tell you, I’m Doctor Dermot McFlynn. Mind what you’re doing, there are laws in this land, and I think I’m beginning to recognise you. You’re that eejit Kelly!”
“Oh, you are a cunning old thief, and a complete old rogue. But, I’m far too clever for you. You just want to frighten me. You are a no-good trickster, and you’ll do anything to get away!”
“Your name is Kelly! I remember you, so take care what you do. Surely you know me? I’m Doctor McFlynn, can’t you see that I am?”
“Well, you have the dirty yellow pinched look of him, sure enough. But I know you are just trying to trick me and, besides, the doctor has dirty old, tattered black clothes on him. He isn’t all dressed in red like you.”
“But, that’s an accident, for God’s sake.”
“Give me the gold this minute, and no more of your old nonsense.”
“I tell you, Kelly–”
“Hold your tongue, and give me the gold.”
“By all that’s–”
“Will you give it to me?”
“How can I?”
“Have it your way, then. You’ll see what the end of it will be,” said Danny, as he rose up, but he still kept his iron grip on the doctor. “Now, for the last time, I ask you, will you give me the gold? or by all that’s holy, I will put you where you’ll never see daylight until you make me a rich man.”
“I swear, I have no gold.”
“Well, then, I’ll keep a hold of you until you find it,” said Danny, who tucked the little man into a headlock with his arm, and he ran home with him as fast as he could.
He kicked at the door of his cottage to gain entry, when he reached home, calling out, “Let me in! let me in! Hurry up, woman, I have him.”
“Who have you?” asked Una, as she opened the door.
“Look at that!” said Danny in triumph. “I caught him at last!”
“It’s a Leprechaun, isn’t it?” said Una.
“A devil of a one,” said Danny, throwing the doctor down upon the bed, while still holding him tightly. “Open the big chest, Una, and we’ll lock him up in it! And we’ll keep him until he gives us the gold.”
“Murder! murder!” screamed the doctor. “You’re going to lock me up in a chest!”
“Give me the gold, then, and I won’t.”
“Dear Jaysus, how many times do I have to tell you that I have no gold to give you.”
“Don’t believe him, Danny darling,” said Una. “Those Leprechauns are the biggest liars in all the world.”
“Sure, I know that!” said Danny, “as well as you do. Oh, all the trouble I’ve had with him, and only because I’m so knowledgeable, he’d have confounded me long ago.”
“Well done to you, Danny dear!”‘
“Mrs. Kelly,” said the doctor.
“Oh, Lord!” said Una, in surprise, “did you ever hear the likes of that? How does he know my name!”
“Of course he does,” said Danny, “and why shouldn’t he? Sure, he’s a fairy, you know.”
“I’m no fairy, Mrs. Kelly. I’m a doctor! Doctor McFlynn.”
“Don’t you believe him, darling,” said Danny. “Hurry up now and open the chest.”
“Danny Kelly,” said the doctor, “let me go, and I’ll cure you whenever you want my assistance.”
“Well, I want your assistance now,” said Danny, “for I’m very bad right now with poverty, and if you cure me of that, I’ll let you go.”
“What will become of me?” asked the doctor in despair, as Danny carried him towards the big chest which Una had opened.
“I’ll tell you what’ll become of you,” said Danny, and he took hold of a hatchet that lying within his reach. “By all the saints in heaven, if you don’t agree to fill that big chest full of gold for me before midnight, I’ll chop you into small pieces for the pot.” And with that Danny crammed him into the box.
“Oh, Mrs. Kelly, have mercy on me,” said the doctor, “and whenever you’re sick I’ll attend you.”
“God forbid!” said Una, “it’s not the likes of you that I’ll want when I’m sick. Attend me, indeed! The devil a bit of it, you little imp, maybe you’d run away with my baby, or it’s a Banshee you would turn yourself into, and sing for my death. Shut him up, Danny, for it’s not lucky to be talking with the likes of him.”
“Oh!” roared the doctor, as his cries were stifled by the lid of the chest being closed on him. The key was turned in the lock, and Una sprinkled some holy water over it, from a little bottle that hung in one corner of the cottage, to prevent the fairy from having any power upon it.
Danny and Una now sat down to discuss things, and they began forming their plans as to what they would do with their money. They were certain of the gold, now that the Leprechaun was completely in their power. Now and then Danny would get up from his seat and go over to the chest, much in the same way as one goes to the door of a room where a naughty child has been locked up. They just want to know “if the child is good yet,” and giving a thump on the lid, would call out, “Well, you little thief, will you give me the gold yet?”
A groan and a faint answer of denial was all the reply Danny received.
“Very well, stay there. But remember, if you don’t give in before midnight, I’ll chop you to pieces.” He then got hold of a bill-hook, and began to sharpen it close to the chest, so that the Leprechaun might hear him. When the poor doctor heard these preparations being made, he felt more dead than alive. He could hear the horrid scraping of the iron against the stone, interspersed with the occasional torment from Danny, such as, “Do you hear that, you thief? I’m getting ready for you.” Then away he’d rasp at the grindstone again, and as he paused to feel the edge of the weapon, he would exclaim: “By Jaysus, I’ll have this as sharp as a razor soon.”
In the meantime, the prisoner was very lucky that there were many large chinks in the chest, or else suffocation from his confinement would have brought about the fate that Danny had promised him. Now that things appeared likely to go hard with him, the doctor began to think that he should pretend to be what Danny mistook him for and, perhaps, regain his freedom by underhand methods. To this end, when Darby had finished sharpening his bill-hook, the doctor replied, in answer to one of Danny’s demands for gold, that he saw it was no point in delaying any to give it to his captor. He admitted that Darby was far too cunning for him, and that he was now ready to make him the richest man in the country. “I’ll take no less than the full of that chest,” said Danny.
“You shall have ten chests full of’ it, Danny,” promised the doctor, “if you’ll only do what I bid you.”
“Sure, I’ll do anything.”
“Well, you will have to prepare the mysticnitrationserumandsodiumcarbonlite.”
“Holy Christ, what is that and how do I prepare it?”
“Silence, Danny Kelly, and listen to me. This is a magical ointment, which I will show you how to make and, whenever you want gold, all you have to do is to rub a little of the ointment on the point of a pick-axe, or your spade, and dig wherever you please for you will always be sure to find treasure.”
“Oh, just think of that! Be sure that I’ll make plenty of it when you show me how it is made?”
“First of all, you must go into the town, Danny, and get me three things, and fold them three times in three rags that have been torn out of the left side of a petticoat that has not known water for a year.”
“Well, I can do that much, anyhow,” said Una, who immediately began tearing the required pieces out of her under-garment.
“And what three things am I to get you?”
“First bring me a grain of salt from a house that stands at a cross roads.”
“Cross roads?” asked Danny, who lucked at Una with a puzzled expression.
“By my soul, but it’s my dream that’s coming to reality!”
“Silence, Danny Kelly,” said the doctor, solemnly. “Mark me, Danny Kelly” he told him and proceeded to repeat a load of gibberish to Danny, which he told him to remember and then to repeat back to him. Danny could not do this and the doctor said he would write it down for him, and tearing a leaf from his pocket-book, he began to write in pencil. Knowing Danny could not read, the doctor wrote down the condition that he was in, and requested help to free him. He then told Danny to deliver the note to the Chemist shop in the town, and they would provide him with a drug that was the key to successfully complete the ointment.
Following Dermot’s instructions, Danny went to the Chemist Shop, and it happened to be dinner-time when he arrived. The Pharmacist had a few friends dining with him, and Danny was detained until they all chose to leave the table and to go in a group to liberate the poor little doctor. He was pulled out of the chest amid the laughter of his liberators and the fury of Danny and Una, both of whom made put up a considerable fight against being robbed of their prize. Finally, the doctor’s friends got him out of the house, and proceeded to the town for some supper. There, the whole party kept getting magnificently drunk, until sleep plunged them into dizzy dream, of Leprechauns and Fairy Finders. For several days after this the doctor swore to have vengeance against Danny, and threatened a prosecution. But, Dermot’s friends recommended that he should let the matter rest, because it would only bring it to public attention and gain him nothing but laughter for damages. As for Danny Kelly there was nothing or no-one who could ever persuade him that it was not a red Leprechaun he had caught. He swore that it was by some dark magic performed by the fairy that caused it to change form itself into the resemblance of the doctor. Danny often said that the great mistake he made at that time was “giving the little thief so much time, for if he had the chance again he would have immediately cut his throat.”
© Jim Woods Nov 2017
Wherever you travel in Ireland there is a phrase you may often hear, namely – “Finding a fortune”. When a man dreams of wealth he will often say that he is “dreaming of finding a fortune. Likewise, if any poor man eventually becomes a man of wealth, this progress is scarcely ever thought of as being the result of hard work, intelligence, or even perseverance. Generally, the people around him will say that he either “found a fortune”, or fell into one. Some would even suggest that he had become wealthy by secretly digging up “a crock of gold” in the ruins of an old abbey, or by catching hold of a Leprechaun and forcing him to give a crock of gold as his ransom. How, when and where the man came into the wealth is totally immaterial, because most people will be satisfied with the simple suggestion that, “He found a fortune”. Many Irishmen would suggest that going into the particulars would only destroy the romance, and their love of wonder is much more fulfilled by the thought that the change from poverty to wealth was the result of superhuman aid. The very idea that the journey to wealth can be attributed to the merely mortal efforts of hardwork and prudence is so very boring.
There is always some old gossip in every community who has a plentiful supply of stories to make her listeners marvel at the wonderful and extraordinary short cuts that some have used to gain their fortunes. There is an old Irish saying that states, “That there never was a fool who had not a greater fool to admire him.” In the same manner there never was an old woman who told such stories, who did not have plenty of listeners to her. One listener to such stories was Danny Kelly, and he enjoyed listening to a certain ‘Cailleach’ who had an extensive library of stories for every possible occasion. Danny was a true devotee to the old hag and would often give her small gifts to encourage her to relate her tales. In most cases these gifts were packets of cigarettes, to which she had a particular craving.
Another regular attendant at the feet of the Cailleach was Una Lennon, who was as much mesmerised by the stories as was Danny Kelly. In fact, the two of them were as idle as each other when it came to work. A day never passed that Danny and Una did not pay a visit to the old woman, because she was always ay home, seated in a huge armchair, because she was too old and decrepit to move far. In fact, the furthest that the old woman could walk was from her armchair to the large seat outside the cottage door. In the warm summer days she could be found seated here enjoying the warming rays of the sun and ready to tell her stories. There she would sit and rock herself to and fro in the sunny days of July and August, dressed in her old creased clothes that appeared not to have been washed in a very long time. With her long, untidy grey hair not brushed the casual observer may have asked if she was made for the dilapidated cottage, or had they simply grown into a likeness of one another. The tattered thatch on the roof resembled the old woman’s straggling hair, and the spots of old age on her face were like the grey lichens that covered the cottage walls. The sallow colour of those walls bore a very strong likeness to the tint of the old woman’s shrivelled skin. At the top of the roof there was a rudely built chimney that out of which flowed clouds of grey-blue smoke. In fact, the chimney and the old woman could be seen smoking away from morning until night, and both were poorly dressed, lonely, and were fast falling into decay.
It was at this cottage that Danny Kelly and Una Lennon were sure to meet every day. Danny would usually saunter up to the cottage and call out, “Good morning, Granny!”
“The same to you, dear boy,” the old woman would mumble in her usual way.
“Here are some cigarettes for you, granny.”
“Ah, sure you’re a real wee darling, Danny. Many thanks, but I hadn’t expected to see you today.”
“No, Granny, you wouldn’t have, for I was only passing this way, while I ran an errand for the Boss and I thought that I might as well step over and find out how you were doing.”
“You’re a good boy, Danny.”
“Thanks, but it’s a hot day, by God, and it’s not going to get any cooler soon. I’m totally out of breath and the sweat is running down the sheugh of my arse, for I’m not fit for all this running. But, this is an important errand, and the Boss man told me to hurry up. That is why I was running, and I took a short cut across the fields and past the old castle. When I was passing by there I suddenly remembered what you told me a wee while ago. You know, about the crock of gold that is hid there for certain, and waiting for anyone that could, to come upon it.”
“Aye, and that’s the truth, Danny, wee darling. I have never heard about any other hidden crock of gold, that I can remember.”
“Well, well! think of that! Then, it will be me that will be the lucky man that finds it.”
“Good luck to you, Danny. But, that will not be until it is laid out for someone to pick it up.”
“Sure, isn’t that what I have often said to myself, and why would it not be my chance to be the man that the treasure was laid out for.”
“Well, there’s no one who knows that,” mumbled the old woman mysteriously, as she put out the butt of her cigarette and lit a new one from the fresh stock Danny had brought her.
“That’s true enough. Oh, but you have a great deal of knowledge, granny! There is no knowing what the future holds for anyone, but they say there’s great virtue in dreams.”
“Sure, there is no one that can deny that, Danny,” said the Cailleach, “and by the way maybe you would step into the house and bring me out a bit of live turf from the fire to light my cigarette.”
“Of course I will, granny;” and away Danny went to do what he had been asked.
While Danny was raking from amongst the embers on the hearth for a piece of still live turf, Una made her appearance outside the old woman’s cottage, giving her the usual cordial greeting. Just as she had given her greeting, Danny emerged from the cottage, holding a bit of glowing turf between two sticks that acted as a pair of makeshift tongs. “Surprise, surprise, is that you Danny?” Una asked.
“Sure, who else would it be?” said Danny.
“Well, you told me over an hour ago, down there in the big field, that you were in a hurry and hadn’t got time to talk.”
“True. I am in a hurry, and I wouldn’t be her at all only I just stepped in to say ‘Good day!’ to the old one, and to light a cigarette for her, the poor dear.”
“Well, don’t be standing there and allowing the coal to go black, Danny,” said the old woman; “but let me light my cigarette immediately.”
“Of course, granny,” said Danny, as he applied the lit piece of turf to the end of her cigarette until it began to glow read with inhale. “And now, Una, darling, if you’re so sharp when it comes to other peoples’ business, what the devil brings you here, when you should be taking care of the geese up in the yard. It is there you should be, and not here. I wonder what would the Boss woman would say if she knew?”
“Oh, sure I left them safe, and they should be able to take care of themselves for a wee bit longer, and I wanted to ask granny about a dream I had.’
“But, so do I,” said Darby, “and you know the rule is first come first served. And so, granny, you have always said that there’s a great amount of truth in dreams.”
She took a long-drawn drag of her cigarette and said nothing at all about dreams. “By Jaysus, but that’s a good bit of tobacco in them cigarettes! Aye, it’s fine and strong, and almost takes the breath from you, it’s so good. Well done to you Danny, darling boy!”
“You’re very kind, granny. But, as I was saying about the dreams–you said that there was a great amount of truth in them.”
“Who says there is not?” said the old woman in an authoritative tone, and gave Danny a dark and disapproving look.
“Sure, it isn’t me you would suspect of saying such a thing? I was only going to tell you that I had a very clear dream last night, and sure, I came here to ask you about what it meant.”
“Well, my dear, tell us your dream,” said the old woman as she took an increasing number of long drags from her cigarette.
“Well, you see,” said Danny,
“That’s very true, my darling boy! Now go on.”
“Well, as I was saying, I came to the cross-roads, and soon after I saw four walls. Now, I think those four walls means the old castle to me.”
“That’s likely enough, dear boy.”
“Oh,” said Una, who was listening with her mouth as wide open as Carlingford Lough, “sure, you know the old castle has only three walls, and how could that be it?”
“That doesn’t matter at all,” said the old woman, “It ought to have four walls, and that’s the same thing!”
“Well, well! I never thought of that,” said Una, as she lifted her hands above her head in wonder. “Sure enough, so it ought!”
“Go on, Danny,” said the old woman .
“Well, I thought the greatest number of crows that I have ever seen flew out of the castle, and I think that must mean that the gold is there!”
“Did you count how many there was?” asked the Cailleach, solemnly.
“No! Sorry, but I never thought of that,” said Danny, deeply vexed by his apparent omission
“Well, could you tell me if there was an odd or even number of them, dear boy?”
“No, sure I could not say for certain.”
“Well, that’s it!” said the old woman, shaking her head in disappointment. “How can I tell the meaning of your dream, if you don’t know how it came out exactly?”
“Well, granny, but don’t you think the crows were a sign of gold?”
“Yes–if they flew low down.”
“By God then, now I remember, they did fly low down in the sky, and I said to myself there would be rain soon, because the crows were flying so low.”
“I wish you didn’t dream of rain, Danny.”
“Why not, granny? What harm is there in it?”
“Oh, nothing, only it comes in an awkward place in your dream.”
“But it doesn’t spoil the dream, I hope?”
“Oh no, not at all. Go on.”
“Well, with that, I thought I was passing by Dolan’s grain store, and he asked me, ‘Will you carry home this sack of meal for me?’ Now, you know, meal is a sign of money. Sure, every fool knows that.”
“You’re right, dear boy.”
“And so I took the sack of meal on my shoulder, and I thought the weight of it was killing me, just as if it was a sack of gold.”
“Go on Danny.”
“And with that I thought I met with a cat, and that, as you know, means an ill-natured woman.”
“That’s right, Danny.”
“And says she to me: ‘Danny Kelly,’ says she, ‘you’re mighty yellow about the face. God bless you! Is it the jandies (jaundice) you have?’ says she. Now wasn’t that mighty sharp of her? I think the jandies means gold?”
“Yes. If it was the yellow jandies you dreamed about, but not the black jandies.”
“Well, it was the yellow jandies.”
“Very good, dear boy, that’s making a fair job of it.”
“I thought so myself,” said Danny, “even more so when there was a dog in my dream next, and that’s another sign, you know.”
“Right, dear boy.”
“And he had a silver collar on him.”
“Oh, that silver collar is not so good, Danny. What made you dream of silver, anyway?”
“Why, what harm is there in that?”
“Oh, I thought you knew better than to dream of silver. Why, my young friend, sure, silver is a sign of disappointment, everywhere.”
“Oh, damnation!” said Danny, in horror, “and is my dream spoilt by that bloody collar?”
“It is almost spoilt. But, it isn’t yet. It would be spoilt only for the dog. Now, the dog is a good sign, and so it will be only a small disappointment, maybe a falling out with some acquaintance.”
“Oh, what does that matter,” said Danny. “Sure, the dream is still good, isn’t it?”
“Aye, the dream is still good. But, tell me if you also dreamed of three sprigs of spearmint at the end of it?”
“Well, I could not say for certain, because I was just about to awaken at that time, and the dream was not so clear to me.”
“I wish you could be more certain of that.”
“You know, I have it my mind that there was spearmint in it, because I thought there was a garden in part of it, and the spearmint was likely to be there.”
“It is, sure enough, and so you did dream of the three sprigs of spearmint.”
“Indeed, I could almost swear on the good book that I dreamt of it. I’m nearly certain, if not completely sure.”
“Well, that’s reasonable. It’s a good dream, Danny.”
“Is it, really?”
“Indeed it is, Danny. Now wait until the next quarter of the new moon, and dream again then, and you’ll see what’ll come of it.”
“Be sure that I will, granny. Oh, but it’s you have taken the meaning out of it beyond everything, and rest assured that, if I find the crock, it will be yourself who will also profit from it. But, I must be going now, granny. The Boss man told me to hurry with my errand, or else I would stay longer with you. Good morning’ to you, good morning! Una! I’ll see you to-morrow sometime, granny.” And Danny went off with a new spring in his step.
From the foregoing story you can see just how gullible poor Danny was, but it was not in his belief of the “truth in dreams” alone that his weakness lay. He had a very deep belief in fairy folk of all sorts and sizes when discussions came around to them, and he was always on the look-out for a Leprechaun. Now, a Leprechaun is a fairy of peculiar tastes, properties and powers, which it is necessary to acquaint you, the reader, with. His taste as to occupying his time is humbly working at making shoes, and he loves to hide himself away in shady nooks where he can sit alone and pursue his vocation undisturbed. In fact, he is quite a hermit in this respect, for there is no instance of anyone seeing two Leprechauns together.
But, the Leprechaun is quite handsome in his outfit, which usually includes a red square-cut coat, that is richly laced with gold, a waistcoat and trousers of the same style, a cocked hat, shoes and buckles. He has the habit of deceiving, in a great degree, those who chance to discover him. To date none has ever been known to outplay a Leprechaun in the “keen encounter of wits,” which his meeting with mortals always produces. This is brought about by him possessing the power of bestowing unbounded wealth on whoever can keep him within sight until he is so weary of being observed that he gives in to the ransom demanded. This is the final objective of any mortal who is fortunate to surprise and seize the Leprechaun. He must never look away from him, until the threat of his destruction forces the Leprechaun to produce the hidden treasure. This fairy being is, however, usually much too clever for us clumsy mortals and almost always sure to devise some trick that will make us avert our eyes, which will allow him to vanish from our grasp.
It was this ‘Enchanted Cobbler’ of the meadows that Danny Kelly was always seeking. Although he was constantly on the look-out for a Leprechaun, he had never even gotten within sight of one, and he had been given the name of the ‘Fairy Finder’ as a sign of the derision he was held in by others. There was also many a trick that was played upon him. On some occasions a twig stuck in the long grass, with a red rag hanging from it, has fooled Danny into cautious observance. He would carefully approach the decoy for a closer inspection, and a laugh from behind a bush or hedge would then have shown that he was the tool of some trickster. Yet, although this happened quite often, it did not cure him from his folly. There wasn’t a turkey- cock that had a quicker eye for a bit of red, or flew at it with greater eagerness, than Danny Kelly, and he continued to believe that one day or other he would reap the reward of his watching, by finding a real Leprechaun.